Death of an Avatar
by Shadow Wasserson
Summary: In a new place, like this City, anything was possible. Rampant speculation for 'Legend of Korra.'


**Disclaimer:** Yeah, not mine.

**A/N:** Hoo boy. This has got to be a record for me. Not only is this a fanfiction, but it's a fanfiction for a series that _hasn't been aired yet._

'Legend of Korra' is currently all speculation, and this concept was inspired by something speculated upon briefly on /a/.

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* * *

Death of an Avatar**

Peace.

What a word that was, peace. What a _concept,_ in a world that had nearly forgotten what it meant. What it meant to beat swords in to plowshares, tanks into tractors, bombs into fireworks. What it meant to _not_ lose each generation's youth to the battlefield. What it meant to stop _hating._

Well, that last one was proving difficult. But… it might be possible, here. They said in a new place, like this City, anything was possible.

The old woman's moccasins crunched over a fresh inch of snow, heralding the start of winter and its long dark. There was a time when it also meant the end of raids, as inclement weather fouled ships' engines. Now it only meant the end of the harvest.

Or did it? Here, in the City, there was no harvest to be had. Mining went on regardless of the weather, as did the refinement of those ores into iron and steel and stranger things. The air reeked of the factories, where machines worked non-stop, churning out the machines that were in ever-greater demand from pole to pole. Machines of peace, mostly, but occasionally odd weapons, long and skinny, that moved fire and metal without bending. Thunder lances, they called them.

The old woman looked around at the gathered crowds, dressed in uncompromising grey. Black and white also made appearances, and the occasional splash of other subdued color. This was no place for indigo or lapis lazuli, for cochineal or saffron. Besides, cheap clothes, dyed with ash, were less noticeably affected by coal dust.

"People of Republic City!"

The man on the podium was pale, fat, with hair dyed dark with henna to conceal advancing age. He extended his arms toward the gathered throng.

"Thank you for coming here today! As your mayor, I would like to say a few words about our exalted guest. Perhaps no other man has spent more energy towards keeping peace between our three nations, has combated moral decay and expounded upon the importance of acting in kindness to our fellow man. Certainly no other has an influence as wide-reaching, as effective in imparting societal change. He has come today to speak at the thirty-year anniversary of the founding of this City, a City that has broken all borders, that has freed mankind from its chains of bondage and become a light for the world. We shall hear him, in hope that his wisdom will help us create a more perfect Republic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give you: _Avatar Aang!_"

The applause, the old woman was only a little surprised to note, was scattered and uncertain. How could it not be, after an introduction as empty as that?

The Avatar climbed up to the podium and clasped the mayor's pudgy hand. His face was lined and his arrow faded, but his eyes were bright and sharp, his posture straight and his limbs strong. His golden robes stood out amid the grey like a beacon

"Hello."

He spoke without shouting, but his voice echoed across the plaza. It was an eerie effect, but one the old woman was used to.

"I come today to honor a truly remarkable achievement: a City founded not in conquest or in greed, but in brotherhood and mutual respect. A City that belongs to no nation, to no king. A City where anyone may find a place, where the greatest thinkers of our time have come to spread their philosophies and inventions. The ingenuity in the people here is Republic City's greatest asset. And, I do believe, its greatest weakness."

A murmur went through the crowd. They did not like having weaknesses, but they liked having them pointed out even less.

"We must always remember, people of Republic City, that nothing we make springs wholecloth from the ground. Everything has history. Everything has a past. And we must strive, with all our might, to remember this past, to honor it and cherish it as time-tested wisdom. And we must not repeat our mistakes. We cannot consume the past, to feed the future. I am certain that it is in cities like these where the future lies. And I am certain that in cities like these we may find enlightenment, or destruction."

The murmuring grew more agitated, and the muscles in the old woman's arms tensed.

"In our laudable efforts to make the world better for all, we must not lose sight of who we are. We are more than bodies, you and I. More than meat and bones. We are beings of spirit, and our spirits need nourishment as well as our bodies." The Avatar looked around at the stern faces. "I am aware that the last bending school was recently shut down in this City. I cannot express to you how much this saddens me. In our efforts to erase all hurtful divisions, we may be destroying what makes us human. Do you understand?"

A note of desperation entered the Avatar's voice then, and the old woman closed her eyes for a moment.

She opened them when she heard the noise. It was a crack, like the calving of glaciers in spring, or the first note of lightning.

Then, she saw the Avatar crumble.

She was by his side in the next breath, her mind blocking out all the distance between. The red blood was pooling beneath him, and he wasn't moving. It wasn't until she had the water on him that she registered the hole in his head.

The crowd was seething, the mayor was gaping, the guards were running about, trying to pull her away as she healed, healed, healed. But it was all slow, all meaningless.

She couldn't feel his chi anymore.

* * *

"Dad! Dad! _Dad!_"

"What is it?"

"Mom's water broke!"


End file.
